


Weird and Peculiar

by Lobelia321



Category: Inception
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-04-10
Updated: 2011-04-10
Packaged: 2017-10-18 03:11:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,094
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/184360
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lobelia321/pseuds/Lobelia321
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Arthur has weird dreams.  Some of them have Eames in them.  We also encounter flying carpets and a tree frog.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Weird and Peculiar

_**FIC: Weird and Peculiar. Arthur/Eames! Whee!!!**_  
TITLE: Weird and Peculiar  
AUTHOR: Lobelia; [](http://lobelia321.livejournal.com/profile)[**lobelia321**](http://lobelia321.livejournal.com/)  
FANDOM: Inception  
PAIRING: Arthur/Eames  
RATING: PG-17  
SUMMARY: Arthur has weird dreams. Some of them have Eames in them. We also encounter flying carpets and a tree frog.

  
+++

 **Weird and Peculiar  
By Lobelia**

"I had the weirdest dream last night," says Arthur. "I dreamed that my penis had turned into an elephant's trunk. It was very long and prehensile and had those two nostril holes at the end, except it wasn't grey, it was pink. And I kept picking up stuff with this trunk, peanuts and little marbles. I had to pick up everything and put it in a blue box. This was very important in the dream. The last thing I picked up was my die. But when I picked it up, my trunk did a hiccup and the die went up one of the nostrils. It went racing up the inside of the trunk. This made the trunk all stiff which is when it turned back into a penis and I woke up."

"Hm," says Eames. "Did you come?"

"Pardon?" says Arthur.

"Did you come? Was it that sort of a dream?"

Arthur thinks. "No. I don't remember coming. I would have noticed, wouldn't I? Spunk shooting out of the two nostrils?"

"That would be kind of cool," says Eames. "Can you pass me that Glock?"

+++

"I had another strange dream," says Arthur. "Maybe it comes from sleeping at odd times of the day. Anyway, I dreamed that I had eyes for balls. They could blink and everything. I could see everything from a different perspective, from an angle lower than what I'm used to. The eyeballs had very long eyelashes for some reason; and these eyelashes kept getting in the way of my vision. We were in a desert. You were there, too, I think. We had to get somewhere very fast. And you, or the person who may have been you, said 'Let's take the flying carpet'. I had to steer this carpet with my balls, by looking at our flight path in a particular way. Whenever we had to go left, I had to look left, and so on. But then the eyelashes got in the way and I blinked and this made the flying carpet plummet and I woke up."

"Really," says Eames. "Did you see your dick from up close?"

"That didn't come into it, I don't think."

"It would have got in the way, wouldn't it. In the way of the flying."

"I guess so. It was the thighs, mainly. My vision was wedged between my thighs, and my face was kind of really high up, above me. That's what it felt like: that where my eyes were was were 'me' was."

"Did I have eyeballs, too? In the dream?"

"That didn't really come into it. Are you finished with the Beretta?"

+++

"I had a dream that we were in a dream together," says Arthur. "We were in a room, it was a bit like that hotel in Baden Baden, do you remember that? But not quite. It had sunken baths instead of beds, and we had to step into these baths; they were filled with water and bubbles. We had to hook up like that, in the baths. And then we popped out in a dream that was just like that time in Jakarta, do you remember that? When we were on that rooftop terrace?"

"Oh yeah?" says Eames. "And then what happened?"

"Nothing," says Arthur. "I woke up."

"You woke up? Are you sure you're remembering everything?"

"I think so. No, hang on, there was something else. We also had sunken baths on top of the rooftop. It was quite difficult climbing out of them; in fact, it was a sort of new way of moving into dreams. We were testing it out. It was the new thing, you no longer needed machines, just these baths. Except we still had the tubes as a back-up."

"Cool," says Eames. "Did we have to wear special wet suits or something?"

"No," says Arthur. "We were naked."

"Naked?"

"I guess we didn't want to get our clothes wet."

"Was this one of those being-naked dreams?"

"I don't know. I wasn't embarrassed. It definitely wasn't one of those being-naked-and-embarrassed dreams."

"I never have those," says Eames.

"You've never had a being-naked dream?"

"No, I've never had a being-naked-and-embarrassed dream," says Eames. "I dream that I'm naked all the time."

"Oh," says Arthur. "Really?"

"Can I have the Walther PPK? I need to check the trigger mechanics."

+++

"You were in my dream again last night," says Arthur. "Except you didn't look like you. But I knew it was you somehow. You know how that goes in dreams?"

"Maybe I was forging."

"Maybe you were. Anyway, in this dream you were a frog. You were a small green frog. A European tree frog. You hopped around on the table until I held out my hand, and then you hopped onto my hand and walked about on my outstretched palm. You had these little suction feet, like a lizard, and a little forked tongue. I was wondering if you would like something to eat so I took you over to the window where there were a lot of flies, you know, like that one time in Wollongong in that place with the blow flies? You darted out your tongue and you caught several of the flies in mid-flight, just like that, flick flick flick."

"Cool," says Eames. "Was I really cool?"

"You were, kind of. You had these gleaming red eyes, with snake-like vertical pupils."

"What's a European tree frog?"

"And then I said to you, 'Are you a prince?' I knew you were really an enchanted prince."

"Ah," says Eames. "Was it that sort of a dream?"

"What? It wasn't. It wasn't any 'sort' of a dream. You were an enchanted prince and I had to emancipate you from your frog body."

"Did you have to kiss me better?"

"I guess I did. Anyway, you darted your tongue out at me. In the dream, that is. You had a really long forked tongue."

"I thought you said it was little."

"It was little to start out with," says Arthur. "Then it grew longer and darted up to my mouth. It flicked at my lips. So I opened my mouth at which point a fly flew right down my throat. It was horrible. It crawled around near my tonsils. But you -- in the dream -- you darted your tongue in there and right down there and you got the fly out."

"Really?" says Eames.

"Yes."

"I stuck my tongue right down your throat?"

"You did. In the dream."

"And did I then turn into a prince?" says Eames.

"I don't know. I woke up."

"So it worked. I was a frog. I kissed you. You woke up and bingo: I was a prince!"

"You're not actually a prince. You're a man but not a prince."

"Prince, man. What's the difference? Do you need this Sauer?"

"I'd hardly call sucking a fly out of my throat 'kissing'. You were just hungry!"

"What did it feel like, my long forked tongue?" says Eames.

"It felt slippery," says Arthur. "Sort of wiggly. Not like a person's tongue."

"Not like this then?" says Eames and kisses Arthur with his tongue.

Arthur opens his mouth wide.

Eames darts his tongue inside and around.

Eames stops.

"No," says Arthur. "It didn't feel like that at all. And yes, okay, I need that Sauer now."

+++

"It must be all those dreams you keep telling me about," says Eames. "But yesterday I had a dream about you. In my dream, we were in a small cupboard together. A wardrobe or a filing cabinet, something like that. It was fairly cramped. We had to be in there because we were hiding from the neighbour. We lived in this big mansion, a bit like a National Trust property -- do you know what the National Trust is? And we had this neighbour, and we had to hide from the neighbour. That's just what was logical in the dream. So we were in this tiny space, it was also dark in there, no light, all pressed up against each other. We didn't have our guns with us, no Beretta, no Glock, no Sauer. And then you did the most peculiar thing."

"What?" says Arthur. "What did I do in your dream?"

"I don't know, Arthur. You did something that made me think that maybe it wasn't my dream at all."

"What? Dream rape?"

"I didn't have my chip with me. In the dream, I didn't have anything with me. No weapons, no token..."

"No clothes?"

"See? How did you know that? That is peculiar, you knowing that."

"Why? You told me that you have a lot of being-naked dreams," says Arthur. "I assumed this was one of them."

"Well, it was. Because we had had to rush into this cupboard without preparation. Because this neighbour suddenly knocked the door down and we had to run and we didn't have clothes with us or guns or anything."

"So what was the peculiar thing I did? In the dream?"

"Hm," says Eames. "I'm not sure I want to tell you now."

"Why not?"

"It's a bit embarrassing."

"I thought you didn't get embarrassed about being naked."

"The naked bit is not the embarrassing bit."

"What was it then?" says Arthur.

"You'll laugh."

"So what if I laugh? It's a dream."

Eames says, "You kissed me and then you grabbed my cock and then I came and then I woke up."

"Oh," says Arthur.

"The H&K. Have you seen the H&K?"

"It's here somewhere. You came in the dream or for real?"

"Both."

"I see," says Arthur. "Did I come too?"

"I have no idea. I didn't dream that part."

"Right," says Arthur. "Seems a little unfair, doesn't it?"

"I still think you manipulated that dream."

"I didn't. Why would I? Anyway, if I had, I would have made sure to make myself come as well."

"Have you seen my chip?"

"It's probably in your pocket. It's always in your pocket. Listen, you came in the dream and you woke up and realised you had come for real. So I think that now..."

"You need to come for real?"

"Exactly. I think. Don't you think? Don't you think... Oh, look, you found your chip. And I've found my die. Here it is. And it's... oh shit, we're not dreaming."

"Did you think we were?"

"It's just that I feel," says Arthur. "I feel. I feel..."

"What's a European tree frog, Arthur?"

"I feel I want to kiss you again and I want to grab your cock for real and I want to come in your mouth."

"My mouth?"

"It doesn't have to be your mouth. Could be your hand. Or your anything. Doesn't really matter. Anyway, fuck it, forget I said anything. I thought we were dreaming but it seems that we're not. You're not a frog, and I haven't got an elephant's trunk, and you weren't really a European tree frog, you were more of a red-eyed tree frog, Callidras something or other, and why are you looking at me like that?"

Eames opens his mouth and darts out his tongue.

Arthur takes a deep breath.

+++

"I had this dream last night," says Arthur. "After we finished being naked together."

"Yeah," says Eames. "I was so tired out I just went wham, head on the pillow, and didn't have single dream. It was fantastic."

"I had a dream about us," says Arthur.

"What were we doing?"

"Nothing," says Arthur.

"Nothing at all?"

"Nothing at all. Maybe because we're now actually doing stuff for real, maybe it's not coming out in the dreams any longer."

"Interesting theory, Arthur. So are you saying that the more we do here and now the less we do in your dream's headspace?"

"Possibly."

"And in this dream of yours we were doing nothing at all?"

"Absolutely nothing. Just standing there. In space."

"Good," says Eames. "Keep dreaming like that. Is that the lube over there? Can you pass me the tube?"

"Haven't we finished with that yet?"

"No," says Eames. "We haven't. Not at all."

+++

THE END.  
Lobelia. 10 April 2011. 2,021 words.  
Feedback? I love it, all of it, any of it. One sentence, one word even.  
This page: <http://archiveofourown.org/works/184360>  
Read at LJ: <http://lobelia321.livejournal.com/725380.html>


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